Page 5 of Jaded Red

Pain ricochets across my body as I wake up with my neck aching from sleeping at an awkward angle. Another night full of my mystery man assaulted me again and I want to cry. Giving me hope that he will come and rescue me. Then I wake up to this nightmare I’m living in every day. The assholes who kidnapped me then dumped me in this flea-infested room with fifteen other girls and my tormentors I can’t escape, no matter how hard I try.

Nausea climbs its way up my throat, my skin breaks out in a sweat and I do everything I can to hold it down. I need to keep as much sustenance in my body as possible and save my energy. Throwing up all my so-called breakfast would counter what I'm trying to accomplish. A piece of dry toast and a warm cup of water isn’t much but it’s better than the alternative. I inhale through my nose and exhale through my mouth, closing my eyes and concentrating on keeping my food down.

“Nadia, are you ok?” Exleigh, a girl who can’t be older than fifteen asks me. She has bruising on her arms and thighs where these assholes raped her. The right side of her face is swollen from their fists, her dark hair covering most of it. Her once vibrant blue eyes are now dull and fading each day we’re trappedin here and it makes me fight harder to get her out of here. I couldn’t stop them from taking her last night and ended up face down in my vomit and blood after they beat me for interfering and left me there.

I wince before shifting slightly trying to take the weight off my bruised hip. “I’m ok, Exleigh.” I cover my stomach with my left hand protectively.

“Please don’t do that again, Nadia. They could have killed you or worse.” Exleigh’s eyes drop to my stomach and I get what she’s saying without her saying it.

“Ex is right, Nadia. There is more than just you now.” Syvannah, another woman trapped in this nightmare with me, crawls her way over to us across a dirty carpet. Her hands are bruised and busted from fighting the men off. She didn’t win but she tried like hell. Her light brown hair is knotted and hangs just past her shoulders. Syvannah brushes my long blonde hair out of my face. My skin is clammy from sweating through the nausea and I really want a shower but that won’t happen any time soon.

We’ve been stuck in here for almost three months and never once did these assholes offer us a chance to shower. We’re lucky they let us use the bathroom attached to the room. Both the bathroom and this room are stripped bare of anything we could use as a weapon against them or to kill ourselves with. Trust me, I’ve searched every inch of both these rooms, looking for anything to use to get us out of here.

“You’re right but it’s not in me to sit back and watch others get hurt.” I counter.

“I know but you have to let us take care of each other. You take care of us when we come back beat down, bloody and hurt. If you’re unconscious from their fists, you can’t help us heal.” Syvannah grabs my right hand and squeezes it.

“I don’t understand why they do violent things to all of you, but only hit me when I’m being insolent.” I shake my head and look around the room.

We’re all crammed into this tiny ass dirty hotel room. Our ages range from the youngest, Exleigh, at fifteen to me pushing thirty. We’ve all been through hell and back for the last three months and I’ve formed a bond with these two. I look around the dirty room at the women still here. Some of the women are huddled together on the floor or the bed. Others are by themselves with their arms wrapped around their legs that are pulled up against their chests, trying to make themselves disappear. Those are the ones I worry about the most. They’ve been here the longest and are the most broken.

There used to be more here from the markings on the walls, but they’ve disappeared without a trace. My guess is they’ve either been sold or are dead. I won’t let that happen to these women.

I can’t.

I’ve been told my whole life I wasn’t good at anything and I was a huge mistake. My father was the worst kind of man I’ve ever known. He never raised a hand to me when I was a child, but words cut deeper than actions. Then when I was sixteen, my mom and I found out he had another family, one he kept hidden from everyone. That sent my mom into a tailspin of alcohol and drug abuse. She never recovered and the day she died a year later was the worst day of my life. My father’s verbal abuse turned physical. He beat me until I blacked out from the pain, all while spitting on me and blaming me for my mom’s death. He was the one at fault. He was the one to blame. He was the one who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.

All I knew at the time was I had a brother named Nolan. Once I healed from my father’s beating, I took off with only a small bag and a pocket full of money, to find my brother. I traced him allthe way to Michigan and it turns out he wasn’t the hidden family. I was. Nolan is three years older than me.

Devastated about the news, I went back to L.A. without talking to Nolan or telling him who I was. He had a happy life, a great racing career and the last thing I wanted to do was destroy it. I stayed under the radar when I got back to Los Angeles to keep away from my father and found a home with the racing circuit. I had natural ability behind the wheel and I give that credit to my brother Nolan, only he didn’t know about me.

A couple of years after I found him, he came to L.A. with his girlfriend Krimson, who is the head of the racing circuit. Nothing goes on without her knowing it and it’s a little intimidating, but I managed to stay away from her crew’s attention. I saw Nolan at almost every race, only he didn’t see me hiding in the shadows. Krimson’s crew was more worried about finding out who killed her parents and little brother, they didn’t notice me. Not until the last day Nolan and Krimson were going to be in L.A. for a while.

The smell of racing fuel and burnt tires fills my nose as I relax against the hood of my Supra, waiting for the cue to race. The deep thumping of someone’s bass vibrates through my body, making my adrenaline burn. Rumor has it Krimson and her crew won’t be here tonight and it’s been a while since I raced the streets for cash, I figured, fuck it, I should be safe tonight. Besides, I need the cash.

A tall, muscular, dark-skinned man with dreadlocks grabs everyone’s attention. The music turns down. “Ladies and gentlemen, tonight’s race is a special one. With a five K buy-in, we are shaking things up a bit. It won’t be like anormal quarter-mile race. Instead, we have downloaded GPS directions to your phones. The winner will receive their special prize at the end of the race. I promise you will not be disappointed.”

Once he is finished, the five driver’s, including mine, phones ping with a location. We’ll end up at the old warehouse in Culver City, about three miles away from here. This means we will have to battle, not only with each other but with L.A. traffic too. The first one to make it there will have a special surprise, which will be given at the end of the race.

“Line ‘em up!” The man shouts.

I hurry to my car and fire her up, plugging my phone into the console, so the coordinates pop up on the screen. The purr of the engine settles me and I pull up to the makeshift starting line. Questions about what awaits the winner at the end fade away as all five of us line up. I’m directly in the middle, just where I like to be. Once everyone is lined up, I reach under the passenger seat and turn on the two tanks of NOS. Can’t win a race without a slight edge. I pull my long blond hair out of my face and focus on the woman standing between my car and another racer. She’s wearing a short white skirt that barely covers her ass, a tight red blouse and a red scarf. She points to each of us one by one to make sure we are ready. Once she is satisfied, she unties the scarf around her neck and raises it above her head. Once she releases the scarf, all five of us take off from the starting line, neck and neck. I fight to overtake the car to my left when we come to a corner. I ease up on the gas a little, throw up my parking brake, shift down once and floor it. I squeal around the corner in perfect precision, overtaking two drivers. There are still two in front of me, but I’m eating at their bumpers, waiting for the perfect time to pass.

According to GPS, we have less than a mile before we reach the warehouse. The light in front of us changes from green tored but I don’t stop. I weave in and out of traffic, crossing the intersection. Horns blare but I can’t let up, not if I want to win the twenty K and the surprise at the end. Weaving in and out of traffic, I smoothly shift gears and am ready to pass the two cars in front of me. I flick the switch to the NOS and activate it with a push of a button. The power it sprays kicks me back in my seat and the adrenaline flows through me like a wave. A heady rush steadies my nerves as I overtake the two drivers and come barreling down to the finish line. With only seconds left, I cross the finish line ahead of the rest of the drivers, winning the race. Bringing my car to a complete stop, I’m swarmed with people congratulating me on my win. A different man comes up to congratulate me. He is tall, and has dark hair with blond highlights and I recognize him at once as Rush, from Krimson’s crew. Oh shit.

“Great win, what’s your name?” Rush asks me.

I panic and give him a false name. “Tatianna.”

“Well, Tatianna, since you’ve won, we are going to make your dreams come true. We have a spot open in our crew and you have the skills we need. What do you say?” Rush’s bright white smile is supposed to relax me, but all it does is send me into a panic attack.

“Thanks, but I’m not interested,” I say quietly.

Rush frowns, “Are you sure? There are a lot of people who would die to be in your boots right now.”

“Yes, thank you for the offer, but I really can’t.” I shake my head. My father’s words ring in my ears. You’re not worth it. You’ll never be worth it.

“Well, if you change your mind, please reach out to me, any time, night or day. We really could use a driver with your skills. Besides, your racing reminds me of someone close to me.” Rush studies me intently before he hands me a plain business card.On it is a single number. “Remember, any time Tatianna. We’d definitely be able to use your skill.”

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